


Stars in the Sky

by Nell65



Series: Pilia’loha Equation [1]
Category: Eureka, Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 16:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nell65/pseuds/Nell65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zane and Jo attend the Unconventional Weapons Convention in Hawaii with Parish (Post Series), where they cross paths with Steve McGarrett and the 5-0 team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars in the Sky

Steve rounded a bend in the trail and swore under his breath. A pair of hikers were squatting down and looking at a map, blocking the path ahead of him. This was one of his favorite weekend hikes, difficult enough and far enough off the main tourist routes that he could usually count on being undisturbed, but not so difficult that it was foolish to tackle the ascent alone. Well, okay, it was foolish and foolhardy to do any climbing alone but given that he preferred it that way, thank you very much, this was a good destination. And today, there were people on it, people who did not belong.

“Dammit, I hate paper maps.” The man’s tone was aggrieved and ever so slightly tinged with a whine.

“Don’t be such a baby.” The woman, a petite brunette, batted her companion’s hands away from the map spread out between them. Her voice was surprisingly low and pleasantly rough. “We’re right here.” She pointed at something on the map, then gestured up the path. “The ascent is less than a quarter mile further up the trail.”

The man stood up, still complaining. “The guy at the hotel said it was a short walk.”

“Live in the moment, Donovan.” The woman stood up as well, folding up the map and tucking it away in a pocket of her trousers as she rose. Her glossy dark hair was bound up in a long braid that swung down to the middle of her back. 

The man was about Steve’s height, with dark hair and blue eyes, and his climbing gear emphasized his broad shoulders, well-developed arms and flat abs. Knowing from experience, Steve estimated it at about four hours with weights a week to maintain that build. 

The man, Donovan, looked down at the woman standing in front of him and his voice dropped, all complaint gone and instead full of honeyed invitation and promise. “The moment was supposed to include plenty of downtime between climbing and the reception tonight.” He paused slightly before drawling, “Lupo.” He made it a caress as much as a name.

The woman arched an elegant brow and cocked her chin as she looked up at her, what? Boyfriend? “You can work fast when you have to.”

Then she smiled up at him, a brilliant, happy, satisfied smile. 

Even though Steve could only see her face in profile, he had no doubt that a man would crawl through broken glass to earn that smile. Obviously her partner thought so too, because in an effortless and well-practiced move, he leaned down as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in for a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. She more than met him, rising up on her toes to wrap one arm around his shoulders, digging her fingers into his dark hair with her other hand. As the man’s free hand slid down Lupo’s back toward her well-muscled and, Steve did pause to take note, very fine ass, Steve cleared his throat and scuffled some loose gravel on the narrow path. 

If there had been any way to pass them without calling attention to himself, he would have done so. Unfortunately it was a single-track path that hadn’t been cut in a while. The verdant undergrowth was rapidly encroaching on what little open space there was.

The man raised his head, but didn’t let go of his girlfriend. She spun in his arms until she was facing Steve as well. Steve smiled an open and friendly smile as he waved. “Hey.”

“Hey.” The man answered, stepping back. Keeping his feet well clear from their packs on the ground and his hands loose at his sides, Steve couldn’t help but notice. 

The woman smiled at Steve, far less brilliantly than she had smiled at her man. For the first time, Steve was able to really take her in. Her snug tank showed off a lovely, hour-glass figure, and more smooth, tan skin across her broad shoulders than such a small woman should really have. On his second visual sweep, he noticed how much strength there was in her legs and her forearms, and how capable her hands looked. He also noticed that she had a seven-inch KA-BAR in a comfortably worn-looking thigh strap. Almost identical to the one he was currently wearing, in fact. Her large, dark eyes were steady as she evaluated Steve, checking him out for a potential threat he was suddenly quite certain. Having reached her decision, she moved more directly into the path, putting herself between Steve and Donovan. “Hi,” she said.

Steve kept his non-threatening smile firmly in place. “You’re right,” he said. “About a quarter mile to the ascent. But,” and Steve nodded, friendly-like to the man, “not really a walk. More of a mid-grade hike.”

The woman’s “thanks” was almost overridden by her boyfriend’s, “told you so.”

Steve looked at the gear lying on the ground at their feet. It was a mix of old and new, and, if he’d had to guess, personal rather than rented. He added, “the ascent is also mid-grade, and harder at the top.”

“You’ve done it before?” the woman asked.

“Yes.”

“So it’s safe for one climber?” Her expression was doubtful, and given that Steve had just delivered an oblique warning, he could hardly blame her. 

He could also hear Danny’s commentary on the known dangers of climbing alone, which he was sure to get an earful of later. “No. Not really.” He grinned and shrugged. “But my climbing buddies are out of town.”

By which he meant, ‘still in the service and far away from here.’ But he didn’t add that.

He held out his hand, “Steve McGarrett.” And just to see how they would react, “Hawaii Five-0.”

The man frowned. “Hawaii Five-0?”

“Governor’s Taskforce. Major Crimes.”

“So. You’re a cop.”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” He stepped closer to the woman, dropping his left hand on her shoulder as he took Steve’s hand. His handshake was firm, but brief. “Zane Donovan.”

Steve looked at the woman and she held out her hand as well. “Jo Lupo. Nice to meet you, Steve.”

“We’re in town for a conference.” Zane added, “We came early, snagging a vacation out of work trip.”

“Where are you all from?”

“Oregon.”

“Lots of good climbing there, I hear.”

The woman laughed. “Yes. Which is why our equipment is our own.”

Steve grinned at her. He couldn’t help it. They fascinated him. Their odd combination of ease and watchfulness was making all his Five-0 senses tingle. Well, that and that she was clearly guarding Donovan, not the other way around, and they both took that for granted. Which was definitely not something you saw every day. “You saw me check it out.”

She folded her arms across her chest and smiled back. Still blocking the path between Steve and Donovan. “Yes.”

“If you know the ascent, you want to climb with us today?”

“Zane!” Jo turned to look at her companion in surprise.

He raised his hands. “Hey – if he’s done it before, the climb will go more quickly.” His grin turned into what Steve could only describe as a happy leer as he looked down at Jo. “More downtime later.”

The climb did go smoothly, and Steve had a much better time than he would have anticipated climbing with two tourists from Oregon. Zane and Jo turned out to be experienced climbers who knew what they were doing, and had obviously climbed together often. It only took a deliberately inviting glance at their rings for them to clarify that they were indeed married to each other, but for less than a year. This explained a lot of their banter and heated glances, and the kissing. The rest, given the complete absence of any self-consciousness about being inside each other’s space, was probably just them.

Zane, unlikely as it seemed at first glance, turned out to be a physicist and R&D guy. He was in town for a conference on unconventional weapons. Jo was a former infantry grunt, Army Special Forces if Steve had to guess, though she didn’t say and he didn’t ask. Comparing Afghanistan notes was enough for him. And for her to peg him as well, he was certain. Her current position was less clear. “I work for the DOD,” was all she offered. Steve didn’t press. He was sure there was more they weren’t saying. Zane probably worked for the DOD as well, at least as a consultant, and they were doing dangerous enough work to be wary and cautious with strangers. 

During their first break, Zane whipped one of the new phone/tablet hybrids out of his backpack and started quizzing Steve about recent cases he pulled from news headlines. By the time Steve had answered a half dozen or so of Zane’s questions, most couched in a gee-whiz, way to go dude, that is so awesome form, he realized he had been efficiently interrogated, and had probably revealed more than he intended. Based on the shared smile between Jo and Zane, and the faint release of tension he hadn’t fully realized was there in their shoulders, he had also passed.

After that, Zane had stashed his electronics and started asking Steve about his favorite weapons, and what, if anything, would make them more useful to him in the field. His wife could play that game too, and it filled in their few rest breaks on the way to the peak, and the hike back down the trail to their cars. 

This was how Steve discovered that Zane shared his enthusiasm for blowing things up, and they were deep into a debate on the merits of various timed chargers when they reached the parking area. It was still only mid-afternoon, so Steve impulsively invited them to join him at Kamekona’s shrimp truck for a late lunch. After a quick glance at each other, they accepted. In short order they all were seated at the familiar picnic table, tearing into a well-earned meal.

Steve wasn’t at all surprised when first Danny, then Cath showed up. He’d answered their texts asking about his climb on the drive out to the beach. He was only a little surprised when Chin and then Kono ambled by, each apparently alerted by a call from Danny. By the time the introductions were all over, Zane looked at his watch and announced that they really had to go.

Jo looked at her own watch, and an expression of dismay crossed her vivid features. “Oh damn! We’re going to have to hurry or we will be late!”

Zane pulled his wife to her feet as he grinned down at her. “Oh babe. We are so totally going to be late.”

A flush spread across her high cheekbones, but she only grinned back as she turned him around and pointed him toward their rental car. “Oh get on with you,” was all she said. 

Another round of handshakes later, they strolled away arm in arm.

Once their car pulled out into the road, Steve turned back to the table. “What did you find?”

“Blank walls, boss,” Kono replied. “Nothing but basics, social security numbers, birth certificates, driver’s licenses. He works for a company called Rockwell Industries, seems to be some sort of high tech outfit based in Oregon. Only about a year old. I can’t find any records for him before that, which is very odd for a thirty-two year old man. Her military files are sealed, as are her current records with the DOD, which only acknowledges her as a civilian employee.”

“Spider senses tingling?” Danny asked, grinning up at Steve from under his eyebrows, his blue eyes bright and knowing.

“Oh hell yeah.” Steve grinned back, then looked around table. “Anybody learn anything about the conference they’re headed to? And why I’ve never heard of it?”

Danny answered. “It’s a small, semi-annual industry event for weapons design specialists, most of them from the private sector, and for the Army and Navy types who buy their stuff. It’s not open to the public, only insiders. Apparently they get together to geek out about things that go boom and to share tips on getting grants and contracts.”

“And it’s legit?”

“Totally legit,” Cath said. “I ran down a friend who has attended in the past. He said it’s about what you’d expect. Tweedy, squishy brainiacs loving being around soldiers, career staff types trying hard to pretend they’re just as tough as folks with line commissions, and that they aren’t at all insecure about how they stack up, intelligence-wise.”

Steve shuddered in not-at-all-mock horror. “Sounds thrilling.” 

“That Donovan guy isn’t big on tweed, I’m guessing,” Chin observed.

“No.” Steve pursed his lips, replaying the day’s climb. “No. And not in the least squishy.”

Kono grinned. “Nope. Rock hard is my guess. Did you see his arms?” She whistled quietly under her breath, then pantomimed fanning herself.

Cath leaned into Steve and bumped gently against his shoulder. “That Jo’s a lucky girl.”

“I’ll say.” Danny poked his finger in the air, taking in both Kono and Cath in an expansive wave. “Did you notice how much he failed to notice the two of you?”

Steve dropped his arm across Cath’s shoulders. “Yeah. I did.”

“Well. He did notice. He just didn’t linger.” Chin’s warm smile took in both Kono and Cath. “He is human.”

“And very, very male,” Kono added with a final smirk. Then she turned to pin Steve with a hard glare. “Why are you so curious about him, about them, anyway?”

“Yeah.” Cath elbowed him gently in the side. “And when was the last time you hooked up with random, tourist climbers?”

“She’s his bodyguard. And he’s cool with that. Never seen a guy who looked like that be so totally unfazed when his female partner takes the muscle position.”

“Partner? You don’t think she’s his wife?” Danny asked.

“Oh. I’m sure they’re married. And very enthusiastically so.” Steve shrugged. “I agreed to climb with them because I was curious about them, but I stayed with them because they’re good climbers.” And despite Zane’s general chattiness, they were able to sit quietly at the top and take in the view, according it the respect it deserved. He added, “It was fun to be out with them.”

“I think I like them,” Cath said.

“Me too,” said Kono.

“Me too.” Steve was only a little taken aback to discover that this was true. “I’d go out with them again, if they have the time before they leave.”

“I’m going shopping with her tomorrow afternoon.”

They all turned to look at Cath in surprise. 

Cath shrugged. “She said he was going to be busy all day with meetings, and she really wanted to go to a nice mall. Said they live pretty far out in Oregon, and she has to do most of her shopping online.”

“I guess she figures he’ll be okay, surrounded by military types. Even if they are all staff.” Steve turned to look directly at Cath. “Do you think you could….?”

“See what else I can learn, hanging out with her?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll do what I can. Though she did specifically mention lingerie. We might be distracted.”

Steve had opened his mouth, already preparing to encourage her curiosity when Cath’s exact words sank in. He paused, his mouth still hanging slightly open, enjoying the imaginary view. Judging by side-eye exchanges with Danny and Chin, so were they. 

Kono cleared her throat loudly, and Steve snapped his jaw closed and his eyes front. She said, “Right. If that’s all for today, I have plans for tonight.” She stood up. “See you Monday.”

By Monday afternoon Steve had nearly forgotten about Donovan and Lupo and his spider senses. Five-O was being tasked with more and more drug interdiction. So their morning was swallowed by a briefing with several different agencies, all trying, and mostly failing, to convince everyone else that they were really, truly, for real this time, sharing all their intel.

They had all just wandered back into Five-O HQ after a tasteless but free lunch on the DEA’s dime, when Steve caught the call from HPD. A bomb had gone off at the convention center this morning, and they needed Five-O on the case.

As soon as they walked in to the lobby, Steve spotted one of those conference tripods, bearing a placard that directed the attendees of the Unconventional Weapons Convention to the registration area above and to their right. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, nudging Danny with his shoulder to draw his attention to the sign. “That’s the conference Donovan was attending.” 

Danny’s eyes widened slightly. Then he nodded decisively. “Room full of weapons designers and military types. Good target.”

“Or site for an accident,” Steve added.

“That too.” Danny looked around, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he considered the busy lobby. “Doesn’t this place seem awfully full of people for a place that just got bombed?”

“Yes. It does, Danny.” Steve finally saw a uniformed officer, and headed her way. Following her directions down a corridor they found the roped off crime scene Steve had been expecting.

The site of the explosion was one of the smaller conference rooms along a back hallway. Max was already there, poking around the rubble of twisted chairs and burned carpet. Two bodies were covered with ground sheets, and paramedics were attending to a half dozen more burned and scraped victims. 

Max stood up as they reached his side. He explained in his precise and awkward way that the blast had come from a briefcase or a pack of some kind, left in the back row of chairs. The force of it had gone forward, toward the front of the room. The room had been set up in classic conference style, a front table with a half-dozen chairs set behind it to face the room, a drop down screen, a computer and projector cart, and a podium for the speaker, all now in disarray. Partially from the blast, partially from the attendees scramble to get away from the explosion. Uniforms were already taking statements in the next room. 

“It doesn’t seem like a lot of damage for a bomb,” said Chin.

“Correct.” Max bobbed his head in approval. “It was really more of a very large stun grenade, but with a surprising level of accuracy and control in the direction of the detonation.”

“So how did these two die?” Steve nodded at the bodies on the ground, midway up the room, one on each side of what was left of the aisle between the chairs.

Max stepped over and lifted a sheet, pointing as he spoke. “Gunshot to the back of their heads. One shot, small caliber, muzzle applied directly to their skin.”

“So, two assailants?” said Danny.

“At least two,” Max replied firmly.

Danny frowned at that, then continued, “Who were they?”

Steve, who had crouched to examine the nearest body, looked up. Lifting the man’s blazer to reveal a shoulder holster containing a loaded handgun, then pointing to the small earpiece, he said, “I’m going to guess, security personnel.”

“Yes.” Max flagged down an assistant. “Their IDs claim they work for something called Rockwell Industries.”

“Security for whom?” Kono wondered.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Steve said. The name rang a faint bell, but he couldn’t quite place it. He turned to Max. “Do you know what was going on in here?” he asked.

“A presentation on some new targeting mechanisms.” Max answered as his assistant appeared and offered Steve and Danny a program, along with the bagged wallets and IDs of the two dead men. “Part of the weapons design conference.”

The tech-speak on the program was close to impenetrable, but Steve’s eye immediately fell on the name Zane Donovan, one of two scheduled presenters from Rockwell Industries. “Aw shit,” Steve said, offering the program over to Chin. “Where are the witnesses?”

They turned out to be corralled in the next room over. When Steve and his team entered, his quick once over suggested that the group of fifty or so was overwhelming male. They looked to be about two thirds civilians, one third staff officers, more or less evenly distributed between branches, with a slight over-abundance of army uniforms. He didn’t see Donovan anywhere. Approaching the closest of the civilian scientist types, Steve introduced himself before asking, “Do you know if Zane Donovan was in the room before the flash bomb went off?”

“Donovan?” The man shook his head. “I don’t know. Hadn’t met him yet.” He sounded disappointed.

A thin, bearded man sitting next to him looked up. “I have. He wasn’t there yet.”

“You sure?”

The man smiled and shrugged. “Yes. He’s pretty memorable.” He waved a self-depreciating hand. “A bit of a rock star, for this crowd anyway.” 

That struck Steve as completely believable. “Okay. Thanks.”

Steve was starting to turn away when the man added, “His co-presenter was here though.”

“You mean his wife? Jo Lupo?”

“Oh no. She wasn’t here either. I’m quite sure of that. I meant his design partner from RI. Isaac Parish.”

“Is he here now?”

The man looked around, finally standing up to get a better view as he frowned. “You know, that’s odd, but I don’t see him.”

Kono said, “I’ll go see if he was one of the ones the medics were helping,” and vanished out the door.

Steve nodded, and was turning to give Chin and Danny instructions when a disturbance by the door caught his attention. “Damn.”

Chin and Danny looked over, then back at Steve. His frustration at seeing military investigators pushing into the room was mirrored in their faces. “Chin?” Steve made it more a question than an order.

Chin sighed, then flashed a resigned smile. “Sure boss. Interference coming up.”

Steve called after him, “Tell Kono to start collecting the witness statements. Danny and I will try to find Donovan and Lupo.” 

As they sidled out of the room’s side door, Danny asked, “Why are you so concerned about them?”

“The explosive was set to blind the presenters at the front of the room, the ones facing the flash. The assailants were behind it, and rushed the front, taking out two private security on their way forward.”

“Right. And Donovan was supposed to be at the front. But,” Danny scowled, “if the guy’s such a,” he paused to make air quotes, “rock star, shouldn’t they have noticed he wasn’t there?”

“I’m sure they did, Danny.”

“Ah.”

As they drove the short distance to the Hilton, Danny returned to the subject of their morning meetings, and how irritating he found the DEA’s local taskforce chief. She and Danny had had run-ins before, none showing either of them at their best. Steve amused himself by baiting Danny into ever more elaborate flights of baroque language while they rode the elevator up to Donovan and Lupo’s floor. Winding Danny up just to hear the ensuing cascade was one of the more satisfying pleasures of his day. The only thing that broke the flow was Kono’s call to confirm that Parrish was nowhere to be found.

Steve rapped loudly on the door, then called, “Donovan? Ms. Lupo? It’s McGarrett. With Five-O.”

He had prepared himself so thoroughly for silence and an empty room that he had the key card halfway into the door when they heard Donovan’s voice. 

“McGarrett? Steve?” and the door opened. Donovan filled the entrance, leaning on the doorframe with one arm while he kept the other on the door handle, blocking their view of the room with his body. His brows were drawn down in confusion and concern shadowed his eyes. “What’s up?”

He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a snugly fitting pair of jeans that rode low on his hips. His hair and carefully maintained scruff were still wet from a shower. Standing so close to him it was impossible not to take in just how very well defined his muscles were, or to appreciate how much work he put into sculpting himself, and how very well it paid off. Steve dragged his eyes back up to Donovan’s face, only to discover that Donovan was looking back over his shoulder, calling, “Jo?”

They heard what had to be the bathroom door click shut, and Lupo’s muffled voice rang out, “I’m good. You can let him in.”

Donovan stepped back, his voice raised as he said, “Them. Let them in. Danny’s with him.”

Their room was a generous one, with space for a round table and two comfortable chairs by the window, as well as the standard king-size bed, desk and dresser with wide screen combo. The bed itself was rumpled, the pillows tossed in a single heap and the duvet haphazardly dragged over the rest, indicating it had been occupied again after the morning maid service. The table had the remains of a takeout lunch scattered across it, and it seemed glaringly obvious that Donovan had skipped out on the convention to spend some quality time with Lupo. 

Steve heard the bathroom door latch click, and a quick glance showed that Lupo had opened it a few inches, no doubt so she could hear their conversation as she finished dressing.

Donovan meanwhile had backed further into the room, so he could reach into a neatly packed bag resting on one of the two luggage racks without turning his back on them. The guy clearly had picked up that something was amiss, and had good instincts about self-preservation. He pulled out a clean tee shirt and a pair of socks. Dropping into one of the chairs at the table, he said again, “What’s going on, Steve? You’re looking very official.”

“There was an event at the conference session you were supposed to be attending,” Danny answered.

Donovan tugged on a sock. “What kind of event?”

Steve said, “At 11:25 am today a flash bomb went off in one of the conference sessions. It was aimed toward the front table and stunned everyone in attendance, allowing at least two assailants to kill two security personnel as they rushed the front. You were supposed to be one of the speakers, but we realized you weren’t there and came looking for you.”

The bathroom door banged open and Lupo burst out. With her long, dark hair loose over her shoulders and dressed in a knit hiking skirt, a short-sleeved peasant blouse/tunic-y sort of top, and a pair of hiking sandals she looked impossibly young. “Killed? Do you have names?”

Danny read them from his phone while Steve watched Lupo and Donovan react to the news. Her face paled, then her expression hardened, eyes narrowing and her lips pulling thin into a determined grimace. He froze in the act of tying his shoelaces, his frown matching hers. Then they looked for each other. Once their glances locked Steve knew he was watching information flow back and forth, choices examined and decisions made, all within a few heartbeats. Too bad he couldn’t read their code. 

Lupo turned to the desk and extracted two plastic identification badges and two leather ID folders from the open briefcase. Handing them over to Steve, she said, “I’m the Chief of Security for Rockwell Industries. Those two men are,” she hesitated for a fraction of a second, then continued, “were part of my team. They were there to keep watch over our scientists. Zane,” she nodded in the direction of her husband, her eyes never leaving Steve’s, “and Dr. Parrish. Where is Dr. Parrish now, Commander McGarrett?”

Steve was looking at the badges, which certainly seemed real enough, though hardly difficult to fake. It was the DOD identifications, and the shockingly high security clearance levels they displayed, that really interested him, however. The penalties for forging this sort of thing were very high. He handed them over to Danny as he answered her question. “We don’t know.”

“But, he was on the platform?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” That was from Donovan, now on his feet and tugging down a blue tee shirt. “I don’t suppose you have any idea if Parrish’s computer or prototypes are still in the room?”

Steve shook his head. “No.”

“Commander?” Lupo recalled his attention. “We need to see the room. We need to secure RI’s property.”

“It’s all part of a crime scene, Ms. Lupo.”

“It’s all classified far beyond your levels, Commander. And we don’t need to remove them, if they are still there and under guard. But we need to know if they are missing, along with Dr. Parrish.”

Donovan finished putting on his watch, then started efficiently stripping their room. He checked the drawers, scooping out the few items of clothing he found and placing them in his wife’s bag. As he headed for the bathroom, Danny and Steve retreated to the space between the bed and the bathroom wall, pushed more by his focused energy than moving by conscious decision. While Donovan was doing this, Lupo flung open the closet door and opened the safe. She pulled out a handgun, which she immediately tucked into her waistband at the small of her back, a half dozen loaded clips, and a bulky but impressive looking taser which she tossed onto the bed. Before closing the safe she pulled out an envelope and handed it to Steve, taking their identifications back in exchange. “My concealed carry permits.”

By the time Steve and Danny had satisfied themselves that the permits were genuine, Donovan and Lupo had their duffels packed and zipped and on the bed. She was transferring items between a handbag, the briefcase and her climbing pack and he was packing an odd-looking assortment of electronics into another backpack. His hands were deft and sure, coiling charging cords and putting each item in its designated space.

Lupo was in front of Steve again, her pack slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail that added years and authority to her countenance. “Commander?”

At Steve’s nod, she continued, “We need to change locations. This one is compromised. And we need to see the scene. I’d like to leave our rental car behind as well.”

Trying to guess at what kind of lives they led that they were so quick to respond to a sudden emergency, and what it was about this one in particular that had them so spooked, Steve must have waited a beat too long to respond because Lupo’s eyebrows shot up in impatience. Her voice dropped a notch and acquired a more distinctive growl. “Commander!”

He didn’t snap to attention, but it took a conscious decision not too. He glanced at Danny, who shrugged and said, “Well, at least this way we know where they are.” Danny looked at Donovan and Lupo. “There’s room in my trunk for your gear, and you can squeeze in the backseat on our way to the convention center. It’s a short trip.”

Of course it ended up being Danny and Lupo in the backseat, Danny muttering in complaint the whole of the brief ride. Donovan spent the trip tapping away at a computer tablet, while Lupo snapped orders at someone over her phone.

As they scrambled out of the car it finally dawned on Steve that he hadn’t actually asked them the question. “Where were you when the bomb went off?”

Donovan stopped in his tracks and turned to give him an incredulous stare. “Seriously? It wasn’t completely obvious?”

Steve ducked his head in mild apology. “I had to ask.”

Danny interrupted, “Yeah, so, okay, it was totally obvious. But why? Weren’t you supposed to be here, showing off your stuff to potential buyers?”

Donovan started moving again. “It is actually a conference, not a trade show. Parrish didn’t really want me there, stealing his thunder for the big reveal. I did promise to be there for the afternoon session and the question period, though.”

“Was it his work? Or yours?”

“Both. The initial idea and prototype were mine, but after I assigned the project to him, he really took it to the next level.”

“You assigned it?”

“Yeah. Don’t faint or anything, but I’m actually his boss.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I’ll manage. Your Dr. Parrish isn’t the only guy in the world to work for a muscle bound freak who thinks a v-neck tee shirt is professional office attire.”

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, more or less simultaneously with Donovan’s, “You don’t get your shirts tailored like that to show off a saggy gut, dude.” 

Steve sniggered at Danny’s ‘I am offended face,’ which barely concealed a flush of pleasure, and wished he’d thought of the comeback himself. Danny’s shirts were a thing of beauty and a thing of legend in the HPD. But Donovan was the first person Steve had known to comment directly on it to Danny’s face, and within an hour of seeing him modeling one.

Lupo darted ahead of them, spinning at the top of the wide marble staircase to seize the high ground as they came to a sudden stop in front of her. Dark eyes flashing as she glared at them, she flung out her hands and exclaimed, “Boys! Bigger issues here!”

Steve exchanged mildly chagrined glances with Danny and Donovan, and the three of them trailed along in Lupo’s wake as she strode toward the roped off corridor.

Lupo’s ponytail swished and snapped as she moved, making it impossible for Steve not to drop his gaze to admire the way her hips rolled and swung with her quick strides, or to follow that up with speculation about what it would feel like to pull that ass close, how nicely it would fill his hands…and any further drifting was cut short by Donovan’s voice, close to his ear and tinged with knowing laughter. “Nice view, isn’t it?” he said.

Embarrassed to be caught out, Steve looked to Danny for support. 

Danny gave him a ‘who me?’ look. Hooking a thumb in Steve’s direction, he said to Donovan, “Don’t mind the horndog here. He is housebroken, difficult as it might be to believe.”

Zane laughed, and Steve glared at Danny. “Thanks.”

Apparently taking pity on him, Donovan said, “You should see her go in her power suits and high heels. That’s even more impressive.”

“I’ll bet,” Danny drawled, his eyes firmly on Lupo’s ass this time.

“I liked her cop uniform too, of course. She totally nailed that deputy sheriff shuffle. That was so hot.”

“She was a deputy sheriff?” Danny looked up at Donovan.

“When we first met, before she took the job with RI.”

“Why don’t you call it Rockwell?” Danny asked.

“Because it’s a really stupid name, that’s why,” Donovan snapped. “It makes it sound like we work for a company in Bedrock and ride dinosaurs to work.”

Danny sniggered and Steve interrupted before they got sidetracked further. “How long have you known her?”

“All my life, and not long enough.” At Steve’s frown, Donovan elaborated, “For about five years, give or take.” He grinned then. “She used to arrest me for the stupidest little shit, tossed my ass in jail once or twice a month for almost two years. Even tazed me a few times.”

“Really?” Danny’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s one hell of a courtship.”

Donovan shrugged and his voice softened into the tones of a man still amazed by his good fortune. “Things changed. I got lucky.”

They reached the conference room and Steve waved them all in, intensely curious about what Donovan and Lupo would do next. The bodies had been bagged and moved to stretchers. Lupo headed directly for them, Donovan following after. As she opened the first one, Donovan pressed in behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder. For a brief instant, she seemed to relax back into him. It wasn’t a hug, but it seemed to serve the same function. The moment ended quickly. She leaned forward to examine the body and he pulled away and began to scan the scene, starting not at the back of the room but at the front. He was clearly looking for Parrish’s equipment. 

Steve turned to greet Chin and Kono, while keeping his eye on Lupo and Donovan, and they filled him in on their activities over the last hour. Max and his team were gone, their work complete, all but the lone tech waiting for Steve’s permission to remove the bodies. The witnesses had all finished giving their preliminary statements and been released. Their statements confirmed the loose outline they had already developed. A large flash bomb had gone off, the lights went out, confusion reigned, people rushed about tripping over chairs and each other, the lights came back on, two men were down and about a dozen more sustained minor injuries in the chaos. And the only person who seemed to be missing was Dr. Isaac Parish, the forty-year old scientist and researcher who had just stood to begin his presentation when the flash bomb went off.

Chin had managed to wave the military investigators off, for the moment, but Steve knew that if Parrish had the same type of DOD clearances as Jo and Zane, they wouldn’t be able to hold them off indefinitely.

“So,” Danny’s voice interrupted Steve’s morbid thoughts on the unavoidable intrusion by the feds. “When did you start trusting them?” Danny nodded toward the couple now bent over the burns on the carpet, looking at the readout on some device he was holding.

“Their IDs helped. But mostly,” Steve shrugged, “they aren’t worried about us at all, and they are really, really worried about their colleague.”

Parrish’s computer and other equipment were gone, which surprised no one. After quick consultation with the officers left guarding the scene, Steve ordered everyone back to Five-O HQ. Everyone included Jo and Zane, who obviously couldn’t be left alone, given the apparent kidnapping of their colleague.

“Wow! Awesome set up!” Zane headed straight for the central computer table, an irrepressible kid-in-a-candy-store gleam lighting up his face. He looked up. “Someone give me a password. I can break in, but it will go faster if I don’t have too.”

Steve and his team exchanged startled glances, then Steve shrugged and decided to see what would happen. He had to change his password soon anyway to keep with the monthly security cycle. 

Zane’s fingers flew over the keypad, and before Chin had time to draw a breath to explain anything, files started popping open across the table top. Zane straightened up, shooting two sets of video feeds to the wall screens, and pointed. “Okay, here’s the convention center security feeds from yesterday and today, and there’s the ones from our hotel, yesterday and today. Parrish was two floors down from us.” He looked, not at Steve or his team, but at Jo. “Has anyone gone to his room yet?”

She replied without shifting her gaze from the security feeds. “Patel and Davis cleaned it out, along with Aronsky and Foster’s. It was only clothes and personal items in all of them.” 

“Hey. Hold up!” exclaimed Danny, poking his finger at them to emphasize his words. “DOD clearances or not, you two can’t just start hacking security feeds or cleaning out potential evidence. This is a police investigation! There are procedures! There are rules!”

Zane cut him a sympathetic glance. “This investigation will never see the light of day. Normal rules don’t apply. I’ll do what I can to make sure they don’t steal all your equipment under some Homeland Security bullshit, or try to vanish you.”

Steve had the very uncomfortable sense that Zane wasn’t kidding, and for the first time began to wonder exactly what they had gotten sucked into. 

“Zane!” Jo interrupted, “back up the hotel feed. Lobby elevators.”

They all watched as Zane centered that screen and started rolling it in reverse. 

“There!” Jo looked at Zane, who froze the frame. She pointed to a slim woman with brown, shoulder length hair. Jo’s expression was at once alarmed and outraged. “Is that who I think it is?”

Zane enlarged the screen shot, and his mobile mouth settled into a grim frown and his voice hardened. “Yes. Beverly Barlow. Fuck.”

“When was that?” Jo asked.

“This morning.” Zane met her eyes, and they did more of the silent communication thing.

“Who is Beverly Barlow?” demanded Danny.

“Here.” Zane typed some more, then paused, licking his lips as he considered whatever it was he was looking at. Having reached some sort of decision, he continued, “Okay. I’m pulling up her DOD files prior to 2008. You see anything after that and they will lock you up and throw away the key. Basically, she’s affiliated with a self-selected watchdog group created after World War II. They believe they will do better than the rest of us with managing technological innovation, particularly with an eye toward stopping anything they view as too dangerous for the plebes to manage on their own.”

“They are very ends justify the means types,” Jo added, her lip curling with disdain. “She’s been directly or indirectly involved in several murders, multiple kidnappings and assault and theft on a grand scale. It turns out, if they do it, it’s for our own good and not a crime at all.”

“What the hell were you and Parrish planning to present today?” Danny asked.

Zane sighed. “A way of using wifi networks to identify people based on their DNA.”

There was a pregnant pause as Steve, Chin, Kono and Danny all stared at Zane with varying degrees of fascination and horror.

“I know.” Zane scowled uncomfortably and dropped his gaze to the tabletop. “Very Brave New World. I’m working on way to block it, but I was being too clever by half when I built the damn thing.”

Jo gently stroked the back of his hand, slipping her fingers into his. “It also saves lives. And Allison says the medical applications are potentially amazing.”

He smiled sadly at her, lifting their linked hands and pressing a kiss across her knuckles. “Thanks Jojo. But you and I both know it will be decades before it gets used that way. If ever.”

She touched his face with her other hand and offered him a crooked smile. “You never know what the day will bring, Donovan.” Then she pulled him down and kissed him.

“Ahem.” Steve cleared his throat. Zane and Jo’s rapid shifts in emotional settings were almost as mercurial as Danny’s, and just about as productive. “About your friend Parrish?”

“Right.” Zane and Jo disengaged as he spoke. “Okay. Now that we know whom we’re dealing with, we have some idea of how they’ll approach the problem. We should be able to find them, before the end of the day probably.”

“But right now, we need to call our employers. Let them know what is happening,” Jo said. Looking to Zane, she continued, “Would you call Carter?”

He said he would and she looked at Steve, belatedly, if politely, seeking his permission. “Commander?”

Steve waved his hand, indicating either permission or his acknowledgement that he had very little control over the situation; even he wasn’t sure which.

They stepped away, into different corners of the big room, pulling out phones as they went. Steve turned back to his team and sent them off to pursue their own sources for information, determined not to be completely steamrolled by anyone on his own turf. He scanned the files on Barlow, unwilling impressed by her record of subterfuge and mayhem, while Danny flipped through the convention center footage. 

He was aware of the low, one-sided conversations in each corner, but couldn’t catch more than a few phrases.

Kono cleared her throat. “Boss?”

Steve looked up. 

She was standing in the door to her office, avid curiosity in her eyes. “There’s a General Mansfield on the phone for you.”

“Who?”

“Mansfield? His secretary said he’s with the Joint Chiefs?”

“Okay.” He jerked his head toward their guests, issuing a silent instruction, and headed for his office wondering how a flash bomb at a weapons design conference attended mostly by civilians had already reached the attention of Washington. “I’ll be right back.”

Nearly ten minutes later he walked back into the main room, shaking his head in disbelief. “That was one of the weirdest conversations I’ve ever had with military brass. This guy was all over my ass for not locking Zane down the minute I saw him today. Claimed he was a danger to himself and others at all times, and one of the most valuable assets the DOD has. He also didn’t give a shit about this poor Parrish guy.”

Danny and Kono looked up from the computer table, where they had been bent over more security footage.

“Wait.” Steve looked around. “Where are Zane and Jo?”

“She went to the ladies room,” Kono replied, and Danny added, “He got another phone call and stepped outside to take it.”

Steve glanced at the floor where Donovan had been standing, his temper rising. “With his pack?”

“What?” Danny followed the direction of Steve’s accusatory glare. “Oh shit.”

Steve fisted his hands on his hips and his voice started getting louder despite his better intentions. The conversation with the General had rubbed him rawer than he realized. “What the hell Kono?”

Kono grimaced in embarrassment. “Sorry. Escorting her to the bathroom seemed like overkill.”

“Danny? How hard is it to watch two people?”

Chin walked out of his office, obviously drawn by Steve’s volume. “What’s happening?”

Steve snarled, “Donovan and Lupo are gone.”

“What?” Chin turned a startled glance toward his furiously blushing cousin. “Kono?”

Before anyone could say anything else, a new window popped up on a wall screen. It was Zane, calling in on streaming video. “Hey. Sorry guys. Heard Mansfield’s name and knew we had to split.” His wide grin was downright cocky. “He wanted to ship me home in a padded container, didn’t he? Claimed I’m a danger to global security?”

Mansfield had actually claimed exactly that, though in a vaguely complimentary way. Mansfield said that Zane was merely capable of destroying the world, not that he wanted to, and that he was therefore too precious to be allowed to fall into enemy hands. Steve had protested that he didn’t think anyone could make Zane do anything Zane didn’t want to do. Mansfield had coughed, and then with surprising gentleness had suggested that if anyone ever held Jo’s life in their hands, Donovan would do just about anything and everything under the sun, including blow it up if necessary, to keep her safe. Steve scowled, remembering the General’s warning, and the heavy tones of jaded experience in it. He glared at Zane. “I don’t think the General requires padding.”

Zane chuckled ruefully. “Yeah. Probably not. Hold off on telling him you lost me for a while, unless you like red-faced generals yelling at you. Though, the way the vein in his neck pops is pretty impressive, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He turned his head, obviously listening to the low burr of Jo’s voice. Looking back at the screen he continued. “We should have a lock on Parrish’s location by later tonight. We’ll call you then with coordinates. In the meantime, I’m sending you a list of equipment I think we might need. Looks like you guys have a pretty expansive armaments budget. Oh, and Jo likes your guns and wants to borrow some.”

Steve was listening with a barely contained sense of growing indignation, when the tablet camera view shifted as they took a turn and he got a good look at the background of the image. He was hit by a wave of astounded disbelief. “Are you in my truck?”

Zane didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. Instead he smiled a gleaming smile and winked. Winked straight at him! While riding in Steve’s own damn truck! Steve thought he might be feeling a vein in his own neck. 

Zane said, “Yeah. We borrowed it. Don’t worry. Jo’s driving, so you should get it back in good shape. And before you try, the tracker is disabled.”

Steve struggled to keep his voice even. “You’re a car thief now?”

“Dude! Now? No! I started boosting cars when I was fifteen, but I haven’t done it in years.”

Steve ground out, “So. You’re a career criminal.”

“First computer felony when I was ten, so, yeah. But I use my mad skillz for good now.” He smirked somewhat sourly. “Mostly.”

“First?” Steve heard his voice rise perilously close to a howl.

“I’m sending you a pretty safe version of our files. You deserve to know who you’re dealing with. Later.”

The screen winked out.

“Oh my God.” Kono pointed to an email that had flowered open on the table. “Get a load of his list. What the hell does he think he’s going to blow up?”

As Steve read through the list, he had strangest feeling that he was having an out of body experience. His vision seemed to be telescoping and he wasn’t entirely sure that he could feel his own hands. As from a great distance, he heard Danny say, “Chin?” 

Chin looked up, frowning in an odd combination of irritation and admiration. “Nothing. He bounced that signal off so many towers it looked like he was calling from the entire island, all at once.”

Steve exploded back into his own skin. “Who the hell is this asshole? He breaks into our system, violates every protocol we have, and then sends us a fucking shopping list for enough armament to take out a city block! And he stole my truck! My truck!” He raked his hand through his hair. “What did I ever do to deserve this?!”

Kono, Chin and Danny stared at him, almost identical expressions of dumbfounded shock on their faces. Then they looked at each other and, very nearly as one, started to snigger. As they continued to share wild glances across the table, their attempts to control themselves gradually failed. One by one, they slid down the slope from sniggering to giggling to snorting to gasping and finally into gales of laughter tinged faintly with hysteria.

Now Steve was sure he was popping a vein somewhere. “What the hell is so funny?” he demanded.

Danny was leaning on the table he was laughing so hard, but he got himself enough under control to answer. “Oh babe. We’ve only now realized. He’s just a more annoying you! The geeky, criminal version of you! So watching you freak out about it is...” he waved his hand weakly, dissolving into more laughter. 

Steve’s incredulous bellow of “What!?” only provoked more howls of laughter.

Steve marched into his own office and slammed the door, determined to refuse them the pleasure of his discomfort. Once he’d flung himself into his chair, he decided to pursue his own military contacts. He desperately wanted to get a better feel for who in the hell these people were, and why they were being such a monumental pain in his ass.

He started with Cath, naturally, finally seeking a rundown on what, if anything, she’d learned out shopping with Lupo.

“Nothing much. Any secrets aside, I think she’s just a pretty private person. Thinks the world of her husband, likes her job, and mostly wanted to pick my brain about things to do for fun on the island. Said it was their first real vacation together in a long time.”

“So what is her job?”

“She didn’t say, exactly, but she did say it was a lot like trying to herd cats, struggling to keep weapons developers playing inside the lines.”

Finding this entirely un-illuminating, he attempted to debrief Cath on the entire outing, start to finish, hoping to tease out any small clues, only to have her hang up on him in exasperation. “I’m at work, Steve!” 

His next three calls produced nothing but promises to look into it later. He finally tracked down a friend of a friend of a friend in Army Intelligence. He must have been bored enough with whatever he was supposed to be doing that he obligingly called up Donovan’s name, only to squawk, “Holy Hells, Batman! Who the frak is this guy? I just ran into a flagged firewall! I’m totally going to get a visit from people in dark suits asking me what the hell I was doing poking around in there. I’m so totally going to give them your name.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as he said, “Fine,” and disconnected. 

Next he pulled up the security feeds from the Convention Center, not the ones Zane had hacked, but the ones actually sent over to them in response to Five-O’s formal request. It didn’t take long to find the two murder victims, and once he ID’d them, he was able to spot at least three men tailing them. One of them was dressed in jeans and tee shirt, like a grad student, and was wearing a typical-student size backpack, packed full of something Steve suspected was an unusually large and carefully constructed flash bomb.

He didn’t find Parish, but he only had an undoubtedly dated head shot to go on. He assumed that Parish, too, would have had a tail, which meant at least four men on site at the Convention Center. 

He began to suspect that whatever Zane and Parish had cooked up was well past the preliminary design phase, and that their value as the two men most likely to be able to counteract their own work was immense. It also dawned on him that Mansfield had been remarkably unspecific as to who, or what, the ‘enemy’ was.

He found Danny, Chin and Kono sprawled out in Danny’s office, sharing pizza and reading computer files on laptops and tablets. As he walked in, he heard Chin exclaim, “Oh man. How do you accidently launch yourself into space in a decommissioned rocket? And walk away from it afterward?”

Danny shook his head as he continued to read whatever was on his screen. “Cat’s got way more than nine lives.”

“Hey,” Steve said.

The three of them looked up. “Feeling any better?” Danny inquired.

“A little.” Steve gestured at the screens in their laps. “Those the files Zane said he would send?”

“Yep.” Kono looked up and grinned. “Fascinating reading.”

Steve claimed the pizza box with half a pizza still in it and dropped into the empty chair. “Tell me.”

“He’s a brilliant guy,” Kono said. “Seriously. True genius. He was enrolled at MIT at thirteen, and was admitted to their graduate program in physics by fifteen.”

Danny held up a finger. “And expelled for the first time at sixteen.”

“Spent a year each at Yale and Cornell, where he won the most prestigious prize in Physics that they give.” 

Danny held up two more fingers. “Expulsions two and three.”

“Finally completed his doctorate in particle physics at UCLA, finishing before he was twenty-one.” Kono concluded.* 

Chin took up the story. “Then he more or less vanishes, and a only a trail of computer felonies exists, most never tied to him, though he is the only suspect. At least some people think he was behind the 2004 computer crash on the New York Stock Exchange.” His tone, which had remained studiously dry throughout his narration, acquired a faint hint of admiration.

“During which several million dollars seem to have gone missing.” Danny added, his tone almost exultant as he piled up the bad news.

“The FBI finally caught him after he stole $3.1 million from the U.S. Border Patrol. He was convicted on six felony counts for computer crimes, and he spent almost eight months in federal prison.” Chin added, all cheerful helpfulness.

Danny, gleeful bearer of bad tidings, sang out, “Money never recovered, by the way.”

Chin continued as though Danny hadn’t interrupted. “Then the DOD claimed him. Sent him under parole to a secret research facility in Oregon. Wiped out his records before and since. The only thing Donovan left for us in his files after that are a long string of patents with his name on them, consumer goods to military hardware, a bunch of them with Isaac Parish by the way, and a handful of truly spectacular events.”

Steve swallowed a mouthful of pizza. “Like launching himself into space?” 

“Right. Which led to him qualifying as an astronaut under NASA guidelines, which in turn led to a high level intervention that resulted in him receiving full federal pardons for all his crimes. He is officially a free man with no criminal record.”

Kono piped up. “He also once detonated a seventy-year old nuclear bomb, to counteract a ground water radiation threat. That actually worked, by the way. And he helped explode an out of control nuclear fusion reactor, preventing the formation of a black hole. And helped build a device that can wipe out power grids on a national scale. And pioneered radically new data transfer technology, massive jumps in speed and quantity. And devised the hardware and software that takes advantage of that technology to track individual humans based on their DNA.”

After letting that deluge of information settle, Steve could only say, “Now I know why General Mansfield was so insistent.” After another moment of silent contemplation, he asked, “And Lupo? What’s her story?”

Kono answered. “She comes from a military family. Her dad and three older brothers are all retired or currently active duty. Her mom died when she was a little girl. She enlisted in the Army right out of high school, graduated at the top of her training class, then got sent off to a whole bunch of specialized training schools. She ended up in the Special Forces just before 9/11. From what I can tell, she was in Afghanistan within weeks of the towers going down. And that’s when her record gets weird.”** 

“Let me see.” Steve held out his hand. Reading through the sections Kono highlighted, he saw exactly what she meant. After flipping back and forth through the whole record a few times, he looked up. “I think she got dropped in with a combat team, one that she wasn’t supposed to be a part of, as a woman, back in 01-02. Whatever they were doing must have been well beyond the official mission, total black ops stuff, and they must have been good at it because it looks like they were in-country for almost a year. When they got back, she at least, seems to have been redacted, handed over to the DOD and vanished into that research facility in Oregon. The same one Donovan later ended up in.” He glanced at Kono. “Can you look up the other members of that team, see where they ended up?”

“So,” Danny frowned, “she wasn’t ever a deputy sheriff?” 

“No. I think she was. That’s the job she got placed in by the DOD. Later moving into a security position with some outfit called Global Dynamics, which got bought out by Rockwell Industries about a year ago. But,” he shook his head at the new mysteries, “she has incredibly high DOD clearances. She still works for them.”

“Good call, boss.” Kono said. “There were eight other soldiers who came home with her,” she looked up with a twinkle in her eyes, “Zane attached a list, and so I checked them all out. All of them have records as blank as hers. Basics. Nothing more.”

Steve steepled his hands and gazed up at the ceiling. “So,” he said, to no one in particular, “we have these two remarkably unique individuals, running around the island in pursuit of their kidnapped colleague, armed and dangerous and with a penchant for really big explosions. And in my truck.”

“That’s about it,” Chin agreed, a maddening serenity bathing his features.

Steve rocked forward and slammed his hands flat on the desk with a loud smack. He raised his voice to a shout, feeling that vein in his neck again as he yelled, “How can you be so calm about it?”

The silence that fell made it clear that he had yelled much too loudly.

After another awkward beat of time, Danny raised his hand and looked imploringly at Kono and Chin. “Oh. Oh. Let me take this one. Do. Please.” 

They both shook their heads and raised their hands, making vague warding motions, denying any interest in interference. “Take it, Danny. Floor’s all yours,” Chin said. 

Danny leaned forward, hands resting on his desk as he looked up at Steve from under his eyebrows. “So. Steven. You want to know how it is we are so calm, the three of us,” he leaned back and gestured expansively, “sitting here quietly contemplating our evening meal, while an armed maniac with a penchant for blowing things up and an utter disregard for all organized rules and regulations concerning the same, is running around the island in a vehicle not his own? Undoubtedly headed straight into the most dangerous situation he can locate within the next twenty-four hours, give or take? Aided and abetted by a highly skilled commando ninja type, who has exhibited an unhealthy fascination with big guns? This is what you want to know?”

“Well…,” too late Steve saw the wolf pit, and his attempt to stop Danny was in vain.

Danny was on his feet, hands flying as he wandered the room. “Well. Steven. We are calm because we are inured.”

“Inured, Danny?”

“Inured, Steve. Inured. Habituated. Accustomed. Broken in. Yes. Broken. By you. This,” he waved his hands around the room again, “this sitting around, waiting for disaster at the hands of crazed man with a death wish, this? This is our life, Steven.”

“I don’t think Zane has a death wish, Danny.”

Danny ignored him. “Yes. We live this moment, what,” he turned to look at Kono and Chin, “Weekly? Twice a week?”

“Five or six times a month, brah. On average.” Chin said, wicked enjoyment glimmering in his eyes. He looked at Kono. “Cuz? That sound about right to you?”

“Yep.” Kono’s nod was enthusiastically cheerful, her grin nearly splitting her face. “That sounds about right to me.”

Danny turned to face Steve, folding his hands together for the double pointing gesture he was so fond of. “This is why we are calm. This situation is utterly unremarkable to us.” He flung himself dramatically back into his chair, crossed his ankle over his knee and struck a pose of complete relaxation.

“I see.” Steve looked around and saw not even the smallest hint of forgiveness in his teams’ evil smirks. “Did any of you do anything about Donovan’s shopping list?”

“Yes.” Chin pointed with his head out into the nearly dark main room. “It’s all packed and ready to go.”

“So, you’re assuming we are going to help them.”

“Yes.” More maddening calm.

“Why do you assume that?”

“You didn’t report your truck stolen.”

Steve was trying and failing to figure out what to say when he was rescued by a phone call from Cath. He answered before the second ring. “Yes?”

Cath’s voice was somewhere between amused and worried as she said, “I just got the strangest call from Jo Lupo.”

“Oh crap,” Steve said, then switched his phone to speaker and put it down on the desk. “You’re on. We’re all listening.”

“Jo said Zane has tapped into a bunch of Navy satellites and is going to redirect them shortly, for a two minute window. She said he was sending me an email with a link to some code and to please click the link as soon as the two-minute window closed. The code will erase any sign of what he did. I received the email, on a closed network mind you, a minute ago. The countdown clock it contains gives me eleven minutes to decide what to do. She said to call you if I had any questions.”

Steve was silent as he considered his options, which were basically to try to extricate himself now, or plunge ahead. He generally preferred the plunge straight in approach, but with this case already ringing a lot of bells in high places, he wasn’t sure exactly how the fallout would implicate Five-O.

“Steve?” Cath sounded more worried and less amused now.

“For what it’s worth,” Danny spoke up, “he probably didn’t hack your network. I’m sure his DOD clearances give him legitimate access.”

Steve took a deep breath. He was already in this up to his neck, and they might as well see it through. “Do it. Please.”

“I expect a full report later.”

“You’ll get it.” Steve couldn’t help grinning, already feeling the first hints of a future adrenaline rush. “I think you’ll find it very interesting.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Cath ended the call and Steve stood up. “My guess is we will hear from them soon, and that they are cooking up some sort of night assault. We should get changed and geared up.”

The call came about forty minutes later. It was Zane, on Steve’s cell phone. “Hey. We found them. I’m texting you some coordinates. Meet us there in an hour, and if you could turn your headlights off when you leave the paved road, that would be good.” There was a pause, and then he added, “Thanks. We owe you. Which is worth a lot.”

“That was them?” Danny asked.

“Yes.” Steve pushed his phone back in his pocket. “Guy has an unbelievable ego.”

Danny raised his brow and shot Steve a speaking glance. “Mmhm,” was all he said.

Steve made a face at him, but otherwise let it go.

“Do we have a location?” asked Chin.

“Yes.” Steve answered. “He’s got to be using their DNA tracking equipment, to have found them so quickly.”

“He said he built the original prototype,” Danny said. “He must have had it with him, in that bag of goodies he was carrying around.”

They piled themselves and the gear into Chin and Kono’s vehicles, the bit about ‘turn off the paved road’ convincing Danny to leave the Camaro behind, and headed out to face whatever fresh hell Donovan had devised for them. Steve scrubbed his face with dismay when he realized he was actually thinking in Danny-Williams-eze, and firmly ordered himself to get a grip.

Zane’s coordinates led them to a small gravel road that eventually turned into little more than a dirt two-track as they climbed higher and higher into the foothills on the north side of the island. The track petered out at a small and quite unused looking bungalow, which was set close to the edge of the falloff and commanded a fairly impressive view of the land spread out below them. To Steve’s surprise there was a second SUV parked beside his truck. The moon was waning, but the night was clear and their eyes had adjusted to the starlight. 

Jo appeared in the drive, presumably alerted by the sound of their vehicles. She had changed her clothes as well, and, like them, was dressed in a dark tee shirt tucked into dark cargo pants. Her handgun and her taser were holstered on her belt, and her knife was once again strapped to her thigh. She waved them off to park on the far side of the house. With a terse “this way,” she led them to the edge of the old lawn area. Zane was bent over a folding camp-table, frowning down at a confusing tangle of equipment tied into three laptop computers.

The second car was explained by the presence of two more armed men. Both were wearing dark, semi-military looking fatigues and reinforced body armor with RI logos. Jo introduced them as Patel and Davis, the other half of the security team that had come with them from Oregon. The men offered firm handshakes and nods, their eyes watchful and considering. Their bearing, like Jo’s, fairly screamed “not-really-former military.”

Steve didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified to learn that Zane and Jo had such competent looking backup. While he was still trying to work that out, he heard Kono exclaim, “Cath? What are you doing here?”

Spinning around, Steve was gob-smacked to see Catherine Rollins strolling up to their now not-really-small-at-all group.

“Hey guys!” Cath smiled cheerfully and gave them a jaunty wave. “Jo called as my duty shift was ending, and invited me to the party. Picked me up just outside the gates.”

“They go lingerie shopping AND they like big guns. How incredibly freaking cool is that?” Zane was grinning like a loon as he stared at his wife.

Steve caught Cath’s eyes and smiled at her, probably looking a bit like a loon himself. “Really freaking cool.”

“Zane.” Jo’s growl managed to convey both pleasure and warning.

“Right, boss lady.” Zane turned and gestured out over the nighttime panorama below them. “See those lights?”

He pointed to the only lights close by. It was hard to make it out entirely through the tree cover, but it looked like a construction site, partially excavated for a large house perhaps. The site was ringed with security fence and a few mounted lights, glowing arctic blue against the darkness. Inside the fence was the hole in the ground, some scattered earth moving equipment, a construction trailer and two shipping containers.

“That’s where Beverly and her crew are holding Parish.”

“How are they not seeing us up here?” Danny asked. “Surely they have better security than just the fence?”

“They do, but they love their high-tech. You can fool with shit like that. Like, you know how you can make your own recording of nothing happening, and loop it into security cameras to fool people?” Zane asked. “Well, you can achieve the same effect with satellite monitoring. It’s tricky. You have to be able to guess which satellite systems they’re using. But, it’s possible. I’ve created a blind loop in a half-mile radius right over us, one that will last until dawn.”

“No shit?” Danny exclaimed. After a thoughtful pause, he added, “Wow. That’s not good.” 

Zane shrugged. “If you can build it, someone can break it. Eventually, anyway. And satellites are old tech.” He went on, “they also had some ground monitoring, but that was easy to mess with. Anyway, we’re not trying to hide that we’re here, only how many of us there are.”

“What?!” Danny again.

“Well,” Zane looked mildly exasperated, “It’s a trap, right? They want me, and my designs. But we have to spring the trap to get Parish out, so….” he shrugged again.

Steve touched Danny’s elbow, hoping to head off another outburst. He said, “And you’re absolutely positive that your guy is in there?”

“Yes.” Zane said. “I’ve spent a lot of the last year trying to figure out how to disable or fool my own system, but it’s a beautifully simple design. And Isaac made it better.” He spread his hands and his voice rang with absolute confidence, a man telling you the sun rises in the east. “I know he’s there.” 

“How did you come to develop this horribly invasive thing anyway?” Danny demanded.

Zane shoved his hands in his pockets and raised his eyes to Jo’s. Steve wasn’t completely sure, in the starlight, but going by the muscle twitch in his jaw, it seemed to him as though Zane was waiting for her to pass some sort of judgment.

Jo folded her own arms across her chest and raised her chin. When she spoke, her voice was especially graveled, and to Steve’s surprise, ever so faintly full of what sounded more or less like mockery. “Oh go ahead. Tell them. They’re all out here, helping us. They deserve to know.”

With his gaze fixed firmly out in the middle distance, Zane nodded. Speaking slowly, enunciating with great care, clearly intending to say it only once, he said, “I developed it on the fly, to play a practical joke on someone.”

After an astounded pause, Danny burst out, “What! The! Hell?!” 

He moved into Zane’ space, hands on hips, jaw thrust out as he spoke. “This demon device of yours is the result of a fucking prank?” He waved his arm theatrically, taking in the whole of the panorama below them. “Not such a funny joke, now, is it?”

Zane squared his shoulders and raised his own jaw, glaring down at Danny with his usual overweening confidence firmly back in place. “A moment of inspired genius, actually. Thanks. And it’s already been used to find lost children, buried mountain climbers, and shipwrecked sailors. Just so you know. It’s not always bad to be able to pinpoint exactly someone’s location. So, seriously dude, fuck off.”

Zane looked at Steve. “If I haven’t figured out how to break it yet, no one else has either.”

“And then they wouldn’t need your ego or your disruptions,” Jo snapped.

“Damn straight, babe.”

“Hey! Everybody calm down.” Steve glared around the group, ending with his gaze on Zane, “I assume you have a plan?”

Zane took a step back. “Me? For getting Parish out? No way, man. I’m smart enough to actually know what my limits are. That’s your job. Your job and Jo’s.”

“You want me to take charge of this, now?” Steve was incredulous.

“Would you actually follow any plan that wasn’t yours?” Zane shot back.

Steve scowled and Chin said, “He’s got you there, Steve.”

Steve swept them all with his meanest dirty look, just for good measure including Zane, Jo and a smirking Cath in his glare. “Fine.” He snapped. “Sergeant Lupo? I assume you have some preliminary ideas?”

“Yes Sir.” Jo stepped up to the table and typed in some commands on one of the screens. “Parish is here,” a green hotspot appeared on a layout of the building site below them. “Barlow is here,” and another orange dot bloomed. “And here are the rest of the consortium people.” A series of red dots popped up. “Seven in all.”

“Consortium?”

Zane answered, his eye roll audible in his voice. “They’re all cold war relics. Intellectually if not chronologically. Just be glad they don’t call themselves C.H.A.O.S.”

Jo cleared her throat and Zane took another half a step further back from the computer table. She continued, “With nine of us to seven of them, my preference is to send Davis, Patel, Zane and your team straight in through the front gate, while you and I slip in from the west to secure Parrish.”

“You like a head on assault, Sergeant?”

“Always, Sir.” She grinned wolfishly. “And Beverly knows that, and she knows that I know that she knows that, and I know that she knows, and so on. But in this case, they think we are out numbered, and they won’t shoot to kill because I think they want to jack Zane into another neural matrix. That’s what all that power is for.” She pointed on the screen to the six large generators hooked up to the larger of the two container units, the same one Parrish was in. “So it really seems the best option.”

“Neural matrix?”

“Long story short,” Zane’s tone was flat with what Steve recognized, after a confused second or two, as barely leashed anger, “they have developed a way to tap into the cortex and observe what the dreamer is doing in a controlled dreamscape. It’s a kind of living death, an unbelievable violation of mind and body.” 

Steve leaned down next to Jo, looking over the layout on the screen. Low voiced, he asked, “Are you sure you want Zane in on the assault?”

“I don’t want him here at all,” she hissed, “but he’s safest where I or Davis and Patel can keep eyes on him.”

“Will he slow us down?”

“I’m standing right here, you know. And we can all hear you.” Zane said irritably, his flash of anger dissipated; or swallowed.

Jo went on as though Zane hadn’t spoken. “No. He won’t slow us down. He can keep up.”

“Can he use a gun?”

“I live in a house with a gun range in the basement. Yes. I can use a gun. A whole bunch of them, in fact. All different kinds.”

“A gun range in the basement?” Steve was impressed. “That’s kind of awesome.”

Jo beamed at him, and Steve’s heart did that weird pitter-pat that all men who liked women felt when a beautiful woman smiled at him straight from her heart. If he had a tail, it probably would have been wagging. “Yeah.” Jo said, her voice soft. “It is totally awesome.”

Steve filed that away for future questions, and re-focused on the task at hand. After considering the layout on the screen from several angles, trying not to be openly jealous of how easily he could use the program to zoom in and out and rotate it three dimensionally, and asking Jo a few more questions about their resources, he quickly sketched out an assault plan, fleshing out Jo’s basic scheme but tossing in a few twists of his own. “There. That should do it.”

Jo nodded, and then turned to give out assignments to their squad. “So,” she concluded, “any questions?”

“Yeah. I have one.” Kono said. “If that’s the plan, why did we bring all those explosives?”

“That’s for afterward.” Zane stepped forward again. “For a variety of reasons, it’s best if we sanitize the site ourselves. There is too much there that is dangerous, one way or another. It’s better not to bring anyone else in, if we can avoid it.”

“Which you plan to do by blowing it up.” Danny had his arms crossed and was wearing his ‘I cannot believe I am hearing this insanity’ face.

“Yes. But not all with one big, noticeable bang. Duh.”

“How then?”

“We’re going to MacGyver an explosive net, then set it off with a cascading timer. It will be like lifting off the top layer of the dirt, and shaking it out. Like a blanket. ”

“Just like that.” Danny raised a skeptical brow.

“Just like that.” Zane said. “Right after we do what they’re obviously planning to do, which is push the containers and the trailer into the hole, and cover it up with the nice dirt pile they’ve left in place.”

Danny rocked back on his heels, and gestured vaguely out over the site. “And we are going to help you with this, this destruction of evidence compiled with an environmental atrocity, because why?”

“Only if you want too.” Zane managed to sound sullen, as though he were offended that Danny failed to be enthusiastic about his plans for exploding fun. 

“Can I drive the bulldozer?” Cath asked.

“Sure!” Zane smiled beatifically at her.

“I want to see how you set up the explosive net,” Kono said.

“Me too,” added Steve. 

“Oh, of course you would, you violent children you.” Danny’s glare took in all of them. “I swear, you are all hopeless. Completely incurable.”

“And you like us that way,” Kono grinned at him, making Danny huff and look pointedly off in another direction.

“But, first,” Steve raised his voice, just to be sure he was heard by everyone, even those were not listening as attentively as they should be. “We have to complete our assault and rescue Parrish. Get your gear and get ready to move out on my order. Five minutes, everybody.” 

Steve watched Zane pull on a tac vest without any fumbling and check his weapon with every sign that he really did know what he was doing. He wondered what kind of experiences had led him to acquire that particular competency, or, after watching Jo double-check his vest while he smiled patiently down at her, if it was merely the result of Jo’s insistent training. Once she’d finished checking on Zane’s vest she looked up at him, and he bent his head to kiss her. 

After watching them for another beat, Steve turned back to his own gear with a sense of relief. Whatever else was going on, Jo was kissing her husband like a woman who had every expectation of seeing him alive again and mostly unharmed, and not at all like a woman who was expecting catastrophe.

“Being voyeurs, now, are we?” 

Steve turned to see a thoughtful looking Danny. He sighed. It was probably time to put that right, too.

“It doesn’t matter how or why they developed their DNA tracking system, Danny. The bottom line is that, right now, as the developers, Zane and this guy Parrish are at risk. If we weren’t helping them, Zane and Jo could have been snatched as well and it might have taken a full day or more to even figure out anyone was missing. The next thing after that would be a team of Rangers, or SEALs, or both, rampaging around the island trying to find them. And having a much harder time, without Zane’s help.”

Danny scowled, then with a huge, gusty sigh let his shoulders drop and the tension in his upper body began to dissipate. He said softly, “Yeah. I know.

Everyone followed their orders and in less time than Steve had allotted, the small complex was secured. Jo had been right. The Consortium had expected four people to sneak in, at least one of whom they wanted to trap, not kill, and set their defense accordingly. They were not prepared for seven people to burst through the front gate in a hail of gunfire.

He and Jo quickly disabled and secured the two rear perimeter guards, both distracted by the noise from the front, and the lone nurse/attendant/guard inside the container. They found Parrish unconscious, restrained on an extremely high-tech looking bed. He was older than in his photo; a soft, bearded fellow, just over medium height, putting on a bit of a belly as he closed in on middle age. Steve reached him first and felt for a pulse, happily finding a strong one. He was looking around for a way to wake Parish up when he heard Jo gasp a whispered, “oh no.”

He whirled to find her staring, eyes wide in horror, at the bank of computers and monitors behind Parrish, and, more ominously, at the two empty beds beside him. Wires and cords leading from the computers were neatly looped and resting on a small, wheeled surgical table, ready for something Steve didn’t want to think too closely about.

Jo reached out and touched one of the empty beds, her face furrowed in a tight, unhappy frown.

“What is it, Jo?” Steve asked.

“I think the second bed is for me.” Her voice had gone very, very quiet.

Something odd about her stillness made him gentle his voice even more than before when he asked, “why?”

She replied without looking at him, still gazing unseeing at the bed before her. “I don’t pretend to understand it all, or how they do it, but, it’s like being inside a super intense VR game, so intense that if you don’t know it’s a program, it feels real. It uses predictive algorithms based on extremely detailed personnel files to let the sleeper make up their own world as they play, responding to cues from the programmers. And there is no exit from inside the game.”

Steve felt his own expression morphing into one of horror as the sense of her words sank in. 

She went on. “When they had Zane before, they knew they couldn’t create an NPC me that would fool him for long, if we were still together in the game.”

Steve longed to interrupt with questions, like, ‘Before? You never said anything about Before?!’ but had the very distinct feeling that if he recalled her to herself and her surroundings, she would shut right down.

Jo was still speaking. “So they pushed for the most likely, and most hurtful, breakup they could construct from their data and his fears, so he would stay away from me. Her. Whatever.” She shook her head, frustrated by the pronouns. “Anyway, in the game, virtual me turned to a man he considered, considers still, a friend. And he didn’t have many of those.”

“But,” and Steve wondered at the wisdom of what he was saying even as it fell from his lips, “If I’m understanding, it had to be someone he could believe you would choose. Over him.”

“Oh yes. It was.”

He winced in sympathy. For both of them. “Ouch.”

“Yes.” She smiled grimly. “He eventually figured it out anyway of course, and helped blow it up, from the inside and the outside.”

“I can believe that.”

“This time,” she shivered and touched the empty bed once more before stepping back and away, “this time I think they planned to jack me in with him, hoping to keep him inside indefinitely. Probably inventing device after brilliant device just to rescue me from endless danger. Even once he figured it out, which he would do eventually, if he knew it was really me, he would never save himself and leave me behind.”

The despair and resignation he heard in her voice struck way too close to home, and Steve impulsively burst out, “Jo! Whatever you do, don’t leave him because you think it will keep him safe, that he, or anyone, will be better off if you and he aren’t together. It won’t work. I promise you. Better to face whatever it is together. As a family.”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes measuring, and he realized he had revealed far, far too much. A sudden smile warmed her face and she reached over and squeezed his arm. “I know. Been there, done that, it didn’t work. I’m all in now, whatever comes.”

What came next was a loud hail from Danny, giving the all clear. They had killed two guards on the way in, and had two men secured. The men seemed to have been in charge, or, at least, they weren’t wearing fatigues or scrubs, but rather trousers and collared shirts. They were grimly silent as they knelt in the dirt outside the trailer, their hands restrained behind their backs while Chin and Davis trained their guns on them. 

Steve sent Cath and Patel to assist Jo in waking or at least moving Parish. He turned to Danny. “Zane and Kono?”

“The second container. Looking for the Beverly person.”

A single gunshot rang out and he and Danny ran for the source of the noise. It turned out to have been Kono, shooting off the padlock. Zane was pulling open the doors when Steve and Danny skidded to a halt. They were just in time to see Jo appear around a corner, the wildness about her eyes fading as soon as she saw that Zane was unhurt.

The container turned out to be mostly a cell, lit by harsh fluorescent bulbs. It was outfitted with only a cot, a chair, a dry toilet and a handful of flat screens mounted on the wall, four of them dark and two with images of a quiet, nighttime camp. Steve knew for absolute certain that there were four living people on the ground outside the trailer, and two bodies. And even so the silent, empty images on the screens made him want to run to double and triple check on Chin and the rest.

The cell held one barefooted occupant. The slim woman they had seen on the hotel security camera. She was on her feet, backed into the far corner.

As soon as she saw them she started forward, her face wreathed in what Steve read as genuine happiness and relief. “Oh Zane! Jo! Thank God you’re here.”

“Stop right there, Beverly.” Zane had raised his weapon and had it trained steadily on the woman.

“On your knees, Beverly,” Jo ordered, slipping around behind Zane, her own gun also raised and pointed at Beverly.

“You don’t understand!” Beverly began, but Jo just waved her gun once more. “Down, Beverly. Now!”

“We do understand,” Zane said. “We understand very well. I can see the collar. I saw it in the security footage. That was smart. If I hadn’t, I’d’ve already shot you.”

Steve looked back and forth in confusion while Beverly sank to her knees. He said, “I don’t understand!”

“Hands on your head,” Jo ordered, and Beverly complied without saying anything else. “Zane?” Jo’s tone held as much question as order.

“Got it.” Zane held out his gun to Danny, who accepted silently, though his expression spoke volumes. Zane skirted around Beverly, keeping a wide berth until he was directly behind her. He pulled out a pair of plastic restraints from his utility belt and efficiently secured her hands behind her back. Then, to Steve’s utter surprise, Zane began to gently gather up Beverly’s shoulder-length hair, securing it in a high ponytail with an elastic he brought out of another pocket. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Danny barked, surprised consternation visible in every line of his body. “Why are we in a beauty shop now?”

It was Beverly who answered, her eyes steady on Jo, who stood in front of her with her gun still raised. “I’m not helping Decker out of my own free will. He collared me. Literally.” 

Steve looked again, and realized that what he had assumed was simply a metallic, collar-style necklace must be something else all together.

Zane had dropped to one knee and bent to examine it carefully, but without touching it or her. “What’s it do?” he asked.

“Do you remember the vaccine?”

“Yes.” Zane didn’t quite snarl, but it was close.

“Same idea, only fatal. The collar triggers the explosions if I get outside whatever Decker sets as the perimeter.”

“More explosions?” Danny cried. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”

“Tiny ones,” Zane answered. “Inside her. All the major arteries?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” Zane said, but without much heat. “It’s all soldered together. I’m sure a cut breaks the circuit and triggers the failsafe.”

“Probably. I was unconscious when they put it on.”

“Okay.” He stood up and brushed off his knees. “I’ll have to look at their systems.”

“Be careful. I’m sure they are full of deadmen’s switches.”

“Or, in this case, dead woman.” Zane sounded quite unconcerned. He took his gun back from Danny and walked out of the cell.

Jo looked at Steve and ordered, “Do NOT turn your back on her!” and rushed out after Zane.

“What the hell?” Danny said again.

“Zane hasn’t seen the other container yet. He didn’t know about the two empty beds.” Steve kept his eyes on Beverly as he spoke.

“I figured as much. If he had, he probably would have put a bullet between my eyes. Collar or no collar.”

“Was Jo right? Was the plan to jack her in too?”

Beverly nodded, faint regret gleaming in her eyes. “Yes. It was the only possible chance for keeping him inside, and alive.”

“And working for you.”

“Yes.” She lifted her shoulder and chuckled without humor, “Well, for them. I’m sure I wouldn’t be around long after I got them safely established inside the neural net.” She smiled then. “It’s my design, you know. And Zane came up with some amazing, ground-breaking tech, before. He would do it again. All without putting anyone else at risk, or having it fall to the DOD. That’s the beauty of the matrix. And there is the strong possibility that once he knew they were inside the game, with Jo as his motivation and Parrish as his partner, he would manipulate entirely new materials as well as new designs.”

Steve felt his gorge rise as he realized that, even now, on her knees, in restraints and wearing a death collar, the woman was actually proud of her work.

“Well, this is incredibly creepy,” Danny said. He turned to Steve. “Did you know about all this? And just not tell us, because it is too obviously insane to be real, except that it is, because here we are? Having this unreal conversation?”

“No. I did not know.” Steve held Danny’s eyes until Danny nodded, accepting that he was telling the truth.

Danny looked at Beverly and asked, “What happens now?”

“It depends entirely on Jo,” Beverly replied.

Steve wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or more regretful to have missed the confrontation Jo and Zane had inside the medical container. 

“It was pretty scary, actually,” Cath said. He and his team were all sitting under a tree at the edge of the compound, taking a short rations break as the sky began to turn purple with the promise of dawn. Cath was holding forth to a rapt audience. They had all heard the noise coming from the medical unit. “She’s a yeller, but he isn’t. He went very, very quiet instead. Eerie quiet. All coiled fury and no indication of what he was going to do next.”

“Where was Parrish?”

“We’d managed to get him on his feet, but he kept fading in and out on us. So Patel took one look at Zane’s face, then leaned down and slung Parrish over his shoulders and just took off. I should have seen that as my exit cue, but, it all happened so fast!”

Cath paused to laugh, a little shakily Steve thought, before continuing. “Zane had walked in, looked around and just froze. Went cold all over. Jo came in yelling his name, looking utterly terrified. When she saw him, she got all still too.” 

She looked around, “That’s when Patel beat tracks and I missed my mark.” 

Returning to her story, she went on, “So, Jo starts murmuring to him, like talking to a baby, or a frightened kid. All, ‘It’s okay, babe. Didn’t happen. Nothing happened. We’re safe. We’re outside. I’m safe. I’m right here’.”

Steve reached over and stroked a finger down Cath’s wrist. “Beverly’s group had Zane and some others jacked into their system a few years ago. It was,” he stuttered, remembering Jo’s face, Beverly’s smug triumph, “it was really bad. According to Jo.”

“Must have been,” Cath shivered. “So, she figured out pretty quick that he wasn’t responding at all. And then all of sudden, she gets this look on her face, and it’s like, whoa, terrifying, face of vengeance, and she picks up a metal stool and hands it to him and says, ‘smash it babe. Grind it to dust’.”

Cath sat back with huge expulsion of air. “So. He did.”

“It sounded like he was going to take the whole container apart.” Kono still sounded a little awed.

“No kidding,” Steve agreed. “I looked in after it was all over and they’d taken Beverly off to the trailer. Every piece of equipment was in little bits, wires pulled out of their housings, furniture overturned. I can’t believe one guy could wreak so much damage in such a short time.”

“Oh, it wasn’t just him. She did her fair share,” Cath said. “There is clearly some intense history there.” 

She looked at Steve and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Before Steve could decide how to respond, Danny commented, “I know Beverly was half convinced he was going to come kill her next.”

“Yeah.” Cath nodded vigorously. “I know he thought really hard about it, after he’d finished smashing the last of the computers to bits. He looked to Jo, but she made him make up his own mind. Said she didn’t care either way, what he did, she was his forever and she hated Beverly, but she wasn’t going to give him permission or blessing either.”

“So that’s why he’s in the trailer now, trying to figure out how to get that damn collar off her?” Chin asked.

“Yep.”

They finished their food in contemplative silence, and if Cath scooted closer, to press her thigh against his, that was only fair because he’d leaned back and angled his body so she could lean against his shoulder.

The rest time ended when Danny stood up. “We should go get the cars and the other gear. Probably take about an hour.” Danny said. “Who’s with me?”

Steve rose to his feet. “I want to get my truck back.”

Chin said, “I’ll come too, and I’ll go see if either Davis or Patel wants to retrieve their vehicle.”

Steve glanced down at Cath. “If we’re going to help with the clean up, you might as well get started with your Bob the Builder fantasy.”

Cath beamed at him as he hauled her to her feet. She landed in his arms, so he kissed her, because, well, he was helpless when she smiled like that.

Kono said, “Dibs on the digger.”

Chin came back from the trailer, Davis following him.

“How’s Zane doing with the collar?” Steve asked.

“He’s about to take it off. Either Beverly walks out of the trailer in five minutes, or,” Chin shrugged, “she doesn’t.”

It was three minutes, and Beverly walked out. Jo escorted her to the perimeter fence, handcuffed her to the chain-link netting, and returned to the trailer.

During the hike back up the hill to the vehicles, Steve, Danny and Chin all attempted to learn more about RI and it’s employees, but Davis proved closemouthed in the extreme. Only his charming smile as he ducked their questions convinced Danny to stop harassing him further. Steve did gather that Davis, as a team leader under Jo, was terribly embarrassed and angry, both for his fallen men and at them, for failing to protect Parish. He also appeared to genuinely respect Jo, and regarded Donovan with a sort of paternal exasperation, proud, mystified and annoyed in equal measure.

By the time they returned, Cath and Kono had figured out how to work the bulldozer and digger in tandem and successfully pushed the medical container into the pit in the ground, along with all its generators. Parish was sitting up and drinking water, looking dazed and grateful. Patel, Zane and Jo were walking the construction site, collecting all the random bits of trash and tools and tossing them into the pit.

Zane fell on the bags of equipment and quickly organized a production line, attaching what was nearly all of Five-O’s supply of C4, along with a good portion of their grenades, to long lines of Christmas lights already rigged with charging caps to trigger the explosions. When they asked where on earth Zane had come up with everything, he laughed and replied, “Dollar stores.”

Once he figured out what was going on, Parrish stumbled over and took charge. He proved to be an acerbic and exacting taskmaster, even in his current state. But he also worked more quickly and carefully than anyone besides Zane, and asked no questions about what had been done to free him or what they were planning to do next.

Seeing that all was going well and they would be finished soon, Steve relinquished his spot on the line and strolled over to Jo. She was frowning at their collection of five prisoners; her arms folded tightly over her chest. They were slumping in the early morning sun, wilted and defeated under the watchful eyes of Davis and Patel. “What are you planning to do with them?” he asked.

“I think,” she sighed hugely and looked up at him, “I think I have to call Mansfield. Tell him what’s gone down, and let him make the call.”

“That’s probably best. Kick it up the ladder when you can, soldier.”

She huffed, but she also smiled. Then she moved away and pulled out her phone, squaring her shoulders for what was undoubtedly going to be a very difficult conversation. Called over by Zane to help with the timers, Steve put Jo’s command problem out of his mind.  
Then he heard her raised voice, protesting whatever the General had ordered. He and Zane rose to their feet almost as one, and moved to intercept her frantic pacing.

As they drew closer, she finally stilled. “Fine. Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir.” 

She was obviously furiously unhappy about it, though, Steve thought, judging by her clenched jaw and hot eyes.

“Sir. I would like you to convey your orders to Commander McGarrett directly, sir.”

Jo held out her phone to Steve. He wanted nothing more than to refuse, but the pleading glare she shot him had him holding out his hand. He lifted the phone to his ear, braced for the General’s anger, but magnificently unprepared for the order he received.

Handing the phone back to Jo, he knew he must look as stunned as he felt, because she smiled bleakly at him. “Not the decisive order I was expecting,” she said.

“Me either.” Steve shook his head, still processing.

“What does he want?” Zane asked, worried frown lines appearing between his eyes.

Jo answered, still sounding stunned. “The five of them buried with the rest of the rubble.”

Zane absorbed this in silence, wrapping his arms around his chest and rocking back on his heels as he searched Jo’s face, looking for what Steve could not tell. Then at last Zane said, “That guy Decker,” he jerked his chin towards the older man in civvies with short, grey hair and wary eyes, “he was in charge, when they had us all jacked in before. If you’d been any later, he would have killed us all, Jojo. Starting with me. And he was going to do it again.”

Steve turned to look at Zane in surprise. “That’s…not what I thought to hear you say.”

Zane turned his head and looked Steve squarely in the eye. “Part of what I do for the DOD is design weapons. Some of them are already in use. Including our DNA targeting system. It’s already been mounted on modified drones, already been successfully tested in the field. My hands stopped being clean a long time ago.”

“Fine.” Jo took a deep breath, turned and drew her handgun, preparing to shoot the men on the ground. 

Zane yelled her name and at the same time Steve lunged, just barely managing to catch Jo’s wrist, forcing her arm upward before she fired. “Not so fast, sergeant.”

She struggled against his hold, grinding out from between gritted teeth, “I haven’t been in the service for a long time, Commander. I don’t have to take any orders from you.”

“You dragged me into this thing, so, yes, you do.”

She fought him for a few seconds more, but Steve knew she wasn’t really trying, or she would have kicked him, and probably managed to break his hold. When he felt her relax he released his grip on her arm and stepped back. She spun and swung her gun hand around, only to have Zane seize her upper arms from behind and lift her off her feet, turning bodily to keep her gun pointed away from the men. “Dammit Zane!” She yelled. “It’s my job! It’s my responsibility!”

“No!” Steve yelled back. “It’s mine. You asked the General to task me with it, and he did, so back off.”

“I did not!” She’d stopped struggling, but, wiser about Jo than Steve was, Zane hadn’t let go of her. “I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t arrest me for murder afterwards!”

“Whoa! Hold up! What the fuck is going on here?” Danny inserted himself between Steve and Zane and Jo. “Murder? What murder?”

Steve sighed and scrubbed his jaw. Maybe he should have let Jo do it already, easier to argue about it afterwards. And less torture for the men on the ground, listening in shock or resignation to a fight about who was going to kill them. He took another deep breath, then answered Danny. “Mansfield ordered us to clean the site, including the five men from the consortium.”

It took Danny a beat or two to process this, but when he did, his eyes nearly popped from surprised anger. “What? Steven! We don’t do that shit!”

Jo shook off Zane’s hands, and he let her go. She marched up to Danny. “We don’t either, Detective Williams! But those are the General’s orders. I have and I will defy him for a lot of things, but Decker’s life isn’t one of them. He’s slipped out of my hands twice already, with dire consequences each time. People died, people he killed. Good people.” Her voice softened, tinged with both determination and regret. “I agree with Mansfield. The possibility of loosing him for a third time is not an acceptable option.”

Davis coughed quietly. He’d slipped up to their little group while they were talking. “Ma’am, we’re ready for your order.”

Jo slid her gaze to Steve, and he nodded once, acknowledging that the order was hers. She looked up at Davis. “Do it.”

Danny swung his head from side to side, obviously furious and bewildered that no one from Five-O was sharing his outrage or moving to stop Davis and Patel. As the first body tumbled to the ground, he spun on his heels and stalked off, fury radiating from him with every step he took. He was also ominously silent.

Steve waited until all five men were down and Patel and Davis had checked to make sure their work was complete before he turned to follow Danny. Chin and Kono fell into step beside him, spreading out slightly as they drew near, as though to make sure Danny couldn’t slip through their net, Cath only a few steps behind. 

Danny had come to a halt in the shade of the trees where they had eaten before, and was staring out over the horizon.

Chin stepped forward, holding out his hands. “Those men killed half of their team. They had the right.”

“I can’t believe this!” Danny turned on Chin in a fury. “You’re just going to back them up, like it’s no big deal?”

“I’m not seeing that we have a lot of choices here,” Kono said. “I’m sure General Mansfield has all the authority he needs to issue that order.”

“He does.” Steve said. “And we’ll be meeting a DOD lawyer before the end of the week, armed with documents swearing us to perpetual secrecy about all of this.”

“I don’t remember, any more, when I fell through the looking glass,” Danny mused, back to staring at the horizon, still refusing to look at his team, at his friends, at Steve. “One day, I was a regular cop, doing my best to uphold the law and follow the rules that civilized living depends upon. And now I’m here. Party to a covert execution, ordered by a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.” He huffed a bit of faint, disbelieving laughter.

After another minute or so he looked over at Steve. “I think I blame you.”

Danny’s accusation stung, even if Steve understood the cause. But, dammit, he didn’t have anything to do with it this time. He folded his arms across his chest and with some effort he kept his voice sympathetic. “You always blame me. Even when it’s not my fault.”

Danny grimaced in pained resignation and shook his head. “See? That’s the thing. It usually is your fault, one way or another.”

After a pause during which no one could think of anything to say, Danny looked at Steve, slapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Well! If we’re going to help your new BFFs clean up the scene of their crimes, we better get moving.” 

From the dripping sarcasm to the icy glare Danny was shooting at him, Steve knew they were a long way from done dealing with this. 

“Come’on kids,” Danny called as he turned and marched back toward the construction site, waving the rest of them along with him, all false cheerfulness as he sang out, “Back to work.”

Steve exchanged long, resigned looks with Chin, Kono and Cath. It was all too clear that there was nothing they could do right now to help Danny adjust to the situation. So, they got back to work. 

With ten adults, even ones operating on no sleep for twenty-four hours, it went surprisingly quickly. While Cath and Kono used the bulldozer and the digger to push the second container into the pit, the rest of them dragged the bodies into the trailer. Once they had the trailer in the ground, Zane and Steve climbed in and laid explosive charges, rigged to detonate by remote switch. After that they got it all covered with the dirt.

Zane tossed one of a handful of detonators to Steve. “Go ahead, take the first one.” 

Steve did, and with a muffled ‘whump’ the explosion sent up a satisfying ten-foot fountain of dirt and dust before it settled back down. He tried to stay serious for Danny’s sake, but it was too hard and he knew was grinning madly. He did love a good explosion.

Zane turned to Danny and held out another of the detonators. “Your turn,” he said.

Danny crossed his arms over his chest. “No thank you.” He shot a significant look Steve’s way. “I don’t need to blow things up.”

“Come on.” Zane smiled, still offering the detonator, tempting Danny with it. “It’s really fun.”

Danny ostentatiously looked away.

Zane was undeterred. “It’s also therapeutic.” He leaned forward, adopting a conspiratorial vibe. “I usually imagine Mansfield.” His voice got harder, and more satisfied. “Today, I am blowing up Decker.” 

Danny sniffed, but his gaze had strayed back to the detonator in Zane’s hand.

“You know you want to,” Zane was grinning again as he sing-songed.

“Oh fine.” Danny snatched the detonator out of Zane’s hand. “What do I do?”

“Just flip the switch whenever you’re ready. We’re all out of range.”

Danny narrowed his eyes, no doubt considering whomever it was he was mentally blowing up, and then very deliberately flipped the switch. Steve tried to guess who it was that had Danny smiling with satisfaction like that, but realized the list of potential victims was actually pretty long.

After the geyser of dirt settled back down, Danny cocked his head. “You know. That felt surprisingly good.”

Zane laughed. “Every time, man. Every time. It’s like sex that way.” 

Then he winked at his wife and punched the button on the last detonator.

As Cath and Kono climbed into the earthmoving equipment to push more dirt into the sinkholes the explosions had created, Steve ambled over to where Zane was studying one of his monitors. “You know,” he said in a low voice, “I could have sworn you had rigged all three to go from one detonator.”

“Really?” Zane looked up with a half smile, shrugging aside the question. “I have plenty of switches. It seemed a shame waste them.”

“Thanks, man.”

He was already looking at his monitors again. “My pleasure.”

Steve called the Governor’s office mid-morning, to let them know that the Five-O team was finishing up their investigation of the convention center flash bomb and would not be coming into HQ today. To his surprise, the governor himself called back a few minutes later to tell Steve that he had heard from a General Mansfield, who had reported glowingly on Five-O’s performance, and that he was very pleased in turn.

The explosive net worked exactly as Zane had said it would. Where the trailers and containers had been, a rolling crackle of small bangs, followed by a cloud of dirt lifting a few feet in the air, and then settling back, smoothed out the ground as it went. 

Afterwards, Zane brought back out his electronics and scanned the field for any un-discharged explosives. Fortunately there were only a few duds, easily disposed off.

Zane straightened up from the last one, his face and body, like the rest of them, seamed with sweat and dirt, and underneath his skin was pale with fatigue. He said, “I still need to pull up their perimeter sensors, and we’ll have to get Mansfield to send someone to take care of their cars and the earth moving equipment, but I think we’ve done enough for today. Thanks, everyone, for all your help. I really appreciate it.”

Jo moved to stand beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist, his arm falling automatically across her shoulders and pulling her close. “We appreciate it. Thank you.”

They slowly collected the last of their gear and settled into the vehicles for the ride out. Kono took Cath home to shower before her duty shift. Danny rode with Chin, still too angry with all of them, and especially Steve, to linger. Davis and Patel took Parish and Beverly, about whose eventual fate Steve had declined to inquire. He had noticed that Mansfield didn’t seem to know she was there, and figured it was best to leave things that way. That left Steve with Zane and Jo.

“Do you know where you want to go?” he asked.

They looked at each other, then shook their heads. “No.”

“Why don’t you stay with me?” He smiled, improving the offer he’d been thinking about for an hour or so. “I live on the beach.”

It took him several minutes to convince them he was serious, but once he did, they accepted his invitation with grateful enthusiasm.

They stopped for some food on the way back, so by the time they arrived at HQ Danny and Chin were gone, Jo and Zane’s bags dumped in a heap in the middle of the room. Steve sighed, and Jo and Zane were too polite, or too tired, to ask any questions.

“How do you two do it?” Steve nodded toward Jo’s silhouette, sharply outlined in the setting sun. She stood in the surf, letting it break around her calves, her face raised to catch the last of the day’s warmth. She was smiling, her long hair blowing in the evening breeze. The same breeze pressed her thin linen beach shirt flush against her body, revealing the black bikini she was wearing underneath. He was reminded for about the thousandth time what a beautiful woman she was. “You make it look effortless, but, I gather, it isn’t?”

“No. Not effortless. At all.” Zane was sprawled out next to Steve on the lanai. They had been swimming earlier, but retreated to the lounge chairs a while back. “But,” and his smile transformed his expression into one blinding happiness, “So, so worth it.”

“You almost make a man jealous for that.”

Zane raised his brow. “Cath? Or Danny?”

“What?” Steve froze, beer half-way to his mouth.

“One of the easier ways to get into a system without setting off any alarms is to guess passwords. Lovers, family and pets are incredibly common keys.” He shrugged and offered a sympathetic half-smile. “I’m good at watching people, putting things together. And your password is his daughter’s birthday.”

Steve was too uncomfortable to say anything. 

“Have you considered trying to work something out with both of them?”

Steve concentrated on placing his beer bottle gently on the ground, next to his chair.

“It’s not really any of my business, but I know that I’m a lot for Jo to handle, all by herself. She’s got no back up and no respite. It’s all me, twenty-four-seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Sometimes, I feel like a vampire, and not the handsome, sparkly kind. The demon, blood-sucking kind. I wonder if one morning I’ll wake up, and she’ll be an empty husk, turning to dust beside me, because I’ve drained everything she had to give.”

“That’s…” Steve swallowed, flailing for something intelligent to say. He settled on, “Very vivid.”

Zane chuckled, and pointed to himself, “Geek.” He turned his face back to the shore, watching Jo. After a while he said, “She tried to run, you know. More than once. I think she knew how it would be, and was afraid. And I was afraid to hold on too tight, in case I panicked her even more. I do everything I can now to make sure she never regrets taking the chance on me.”

“So, how come you don’t have a third person?” It was a feeble riposte, but the best he had.

Zane laughed, giving Steve’s weak attempt the contempt it deserved. “It turns out I’m kind of a ragey, possessive jackass, at least where Jo is concerned. And, it’s hard to see in her now, but twelve years of Catholic School leaves its mark. Sharing is pretty much off the table for us. But, you three don’t seem that type. In fact, they both might be more than a little bit relieved to have someone around to help lighten the load.”

Steve was quiet for a long time, turning the idea over in his head, wondering if he’d suddenly lost his mind and hadn’t noticed. “How would I manage it?”

He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure he’d asked the question out loud, but Zane answered. 

“You? You wouldn’t. You’d turn the whole thing over to them and let them work it out. Then you do exactly what they tell you and thank your lucky stars every day for your good fortune.”

Jo came wandering back, windblown and smiling. Zane held open his arms in invitation and she climbed into his lap. After some adjusting, she ended up straddling him to rest her head on his shoulder, turning her face to watch the sun slanting across the waves.

Zane wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly for a moment, his biceps bunching and releasing under the smooth skin of his upper arms. He pressed his lips to her hair before resting his cheek against her head. His voice was soft, but Steve heard him clearly all the same. “Steve? Don’t wait so long to decide you loose the window.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Author note: It’s not fully clear either timeline where Donovan finished his PhD, and at least some Eureka fen take it for granted that he doesn’t have one in timeline 2 because of several pointed "Mr. Donovans" in S5, but lots of characters do call him Dr. Donovan during S4, which honestly makes the most sense to me. Why would the DOD or Global Dynamcis bother with him if there is no proof at all he can produce anything but a felony record, or of his research credentials? Also, I can't believe he would be eligible for his final promotion without one. Academics/Scientists are every bit as touchy about rank as Military types are. A DOD research facility would be unbelievably anal about both. So I made the UCLA part up.
> 
> **Author note: Eureka canon provides conflicting information on Lupo’s military record. In the S3 Jo/Julia body swap story she claims she graduated at the top of her class at West Point, but in S4 Zane refers to her as a 'grunt' and in S5, Major Shaw greets her as ‘sergeant.’ You could make both work by waving at the timeline shift, but honestly I think the West Point business makes no sense at all. I literally cannot imagine anyone who ‘graduated at the top of their class at West Point’ having any – much less all – of Jo’s intellectual insecurities or status anxieties in the face of a bunch of out of control civilian scientists. Or her career path. Deputy Sherriff who can’t get a promotion? Really? So I decided to ignore it as a bone headed writing mistake that wasn’t caught in time.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Many, many, many huge thanks to MsArtisan - who graciously beta read several versions of this story. It would be far less successful without her. All remaining errors of composition, canon, characterization, fact, grammar and style are my own.


End file.
